


Barricades

by wrennette



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: DADT, Episode Tag, Fellatio, Hand Jobs, M/M, Missing Scenes, archiving old words, episode tag: Combat Jack, handies and beejs, in country
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4793195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/pseuds/wrennette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scenes from Combat Jack (ep.4). The first takes place after Fick's outburst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barricades

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving from LJ. Originally posted 2008. 
> 
> Disclaimer: not mine, not real.

When the men were gone, Nate scrambled back up the berm to perch back on his box next to the Gunny. He turned to the older man, opening his mouth to apologize for his earlier explosion. Wynn shook his head bemusedly, then looked past him. 

"What's up Colbert?" Gunny asked, and even in the darkness he could see the sergeant's pale eyes, see they way they slid past the Gunny, dismissed him as inconsequential, and pinned on him, bright with suppressed emotion. 

"A moment L-T?" Colbert asked, and he nodded, standing. He heard Colbert's feet on the dry gravel and sand of the berm as they slipped down to where the HM-V was parked for the night. The other men were dug into their Ranger Graves, and they didn't stir as he led Colbert by. He leaned against the side of the HM-V, waiting. Colbert scanned the area, alert as always, watching the top of the berm closely. Then the taller man took a step closer, into his personal space. 

"Sir," Colbert, then scanned the area again. "Nate," he all but whispered, leaning in closer, and Nate couldn't help it. He had told himself so many times he wouldn't be the one to break that last barrier, but then his hand was snaking up of it's own accord, curling around the sweaty nape of Brad's neck, and he was smashing their mouths together roughly, swallowing Brad's soft noise of surprise. 

There was the briefest moment of confusion in Brad's eyes when they parted. It cleared quickly though, obliterated by lust, and then Brad was shoving him against the side of the HM-V, fumbling past the layers of clothing and protective gear. Brad muffled his groan of need with another heated kiss, stroking him roughly. There was no time for tenderness here, and frankly, Nate didn't want gentle. His attraction to Brad was based on the fact that the man was taller than him, broader than him, older than him, and so much more composed than him. It was based on the fact that this was the Iceman, the most aloof, the most unattainable, the safest man in the entire platoon for him to develop a crush on, because this absolutely was not supposed to happen. 

But it happened. Brad's gun calloused hand jerked him hard and fast. Brad's slick tongue filled his mouth, its rhythm a close approximation of fucking. Brad's body pinned him, held him against the cool metal of the vehicle, and it didn't take long at all before he was finished. He came as quietly as possible, only a low whimper of completion making it into the still night air from between their joined lips. Brad pulled away panting, chest heaving, and Nate bit his lips, sliding from the side of the HM-V, scanning the area, then jerking his head slightly. Brad nodded, fidgeted his gear open as quietly as possible. Pale eyes went wide though, when Nate dropped to his knees, leaning up and in to take all of Brad's cock into his mouth at once. 

"Oh fuck," Brad whispered, one hand curling possessively around Nate's head. Brad curled his other hand into a fist, wedged it between his teeth to keep from screaming, because, fuck did the lieutenant know how to suck cock. It was better than any hooker he'd ever had, and he'd had his fair share. He'd had more than a few free lays as well, but the officer kneeling in the sand could out suck any of them. He held himself as still as possible, giving Nate permission to do as he pleased, and the younger man obliged by sucking him hard and fast. He came with a strangled shout, jamming his dick into Nate's mouth one last time. Knowing what had to happen, he kissed the officer once, and then he was pulling himself together, pulling back on his stoic facade and scrambling up the berm to return to his team. 

In the morning, after formation, Nate flinched away from him, and he watched him go, silent in his confusion. When they were sitting in their HM-V's though, when Fick, because he was certain it was back to Fick, came to relay orders, the officer's eyes softened just a fraction when they rested on him. When they planned the assault, the others looked to him, and he backed Fick up, because it was his job. The others nodded, turned away, but before he could pull clear, Fick turned to him, and his eyes were so fucking pretty, his pink lips parted just so, and his breath caught in his chest. 

"Brad," the younger man said softly, and there was something different in his tone, something soft and vulnerable, and Brad threw every rule to the wind. He leaned in, pulling Nate roughly to him, kissing him deep and hard. 

"Absolute confidence," Brad said, voice coming out lower than usual, harsh with want, and then he had to go, had to give the plan to his men. Despite his best intentions though, by that night, they were again Fick and Colbert. He wanted badly to again throw out the rules, to take the lieutenant in his arms and kiss him until he was soft and pliant, and then fuck him until neither of them could breathe. He wanted to wrap him in bubble wrap and blankets, pack him away somewhere safe, away from the bullshit of their idiotic chain of command and assholes who called in danger close arti to incorrect grids. But instead, he walked away, half hard, frustrated and angry at the world.


End file.
